


Puppy Love

by Anxious_Octopus



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anya makes an appearance, Clarke is just Clarke, F/F, Lexa is a dork, Lincoln is a puppy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-21
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:17:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anxious_Octopus/pseuds/Anxious_Octopus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Clarke. Nice to meet you Lexa, although I wish it had been under different circumstances, instead of my dog trying to tackle you.”</p><p> </p><p>or</p><p>Lexa goes running and a dog trips her, causing her to sprain her ankle and meet the dog's gorgeous owner, Clarke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> not 100% sure where this fic is going but I got inspired to write it after my run this morning. First fic for this pairing and first fic on Ao3. More chapters to come, hope you like it!

Lexa Woods goes for a run every morning. Her neighbourhood is close to the river that flows through the city, and she loves the cool morning air that accompanies her along the river banks. The paved pathway follows the banks of the river, winding here and there. The sun shines nearly every day. Today being no exception, Lexa dons her sunglasses and running shoes, throws her hair in a messy ponytail, grabs her iPod and sets out.

Ever since she was in high school, running has made Lexa happy. If she is ever having a bad day it gives her time to calm down and not think. When she is happy, the shining sun and great music only further elevate her mood. As she hits the sidewalk outside of her house, she feels like today will be a good one. _I could run for hours_ , she thinks to herself.

Once she gets to the river, she breaks out into a huge smile, picking up her pace. Her small group of friends often tease that she is too serious. She rarely jokes and is usually straight to the point, but they’ve never seen her during a run. Her armour and enigmatic vibe slip away and she feels giddy like a child. No one sees Lexa like this, and she is fine with that. She can’t deny she enjoys the way other people are intimidated by her at work, and they’re more likely to stay intimidated if they never see her cut loose.

About ten minutes into her run, she spots a woman running a little ways ahead of her, with a large husky at her side. The husky is excitedly running next to its owner, its tongue hanging out of its panting mouth. Every few seconds, the dog tries to dash into the bushes or chase a bird, only to be restrained by its owner tugging the leash. Lexa finds it adorable, watching the dog who appears to love running almost as much as she does. Soon enough, Lexa catches up to the woman, who she can see has blonde hair, a toned back and amazing ass. Lexa snaps her eyes up, trying to avoid staring. _I may be gay but I don’t need to be a creep_ , she chides herself.

Lexa moves to pass the woman, only to have the husky suddenly jump enthusiastically into her path. “Lincoln, no!” the blonde yells, too late. Reflexes quick as they are, Lexa nimbly dodges the lunging dog, only to miscalculate and roll her ankle, tumbling to the ground.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” the woman apologizes, stopping to help Lexa up. Lexa, meanwhile, is laying on the sidewalk, slightly dazed and fairly certain her ankle is sprained. _Shit_ , she thinks, _how am I supposed to run home now? Motherfucker._ It’s then that she notices that the woman has stopped to help her, her dog patiently sitting at her side. _Sure, you’re all calmed down now_ , Lexa thinks at the dog, _now that you’ve ruined my day. Look at you, you smug little shit._ The dog continues wagging its tail and panting, happy as ever. Lexa looks up at the woman and her menacing inner monologue stops in its tracks. _Holy shit, this girl is gorgeous._ The blonde has a very apologetic look on her face, and Lexa can’t help but skim her eyes over the girl’s features. From her blue eyes to her amazing lips, Lexa thinks she might be looking at an actual goddess. _Whoa, cool it, Woods._

“It’s okay,” Lexa replies, sitting up. She gasps, feeling pain lance through her ankle. “Ah, maybe it’s not,” she says, more to herself than the woman.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me have a look.” And just like that, this beautiful woman is squatting by Lexa’s foot and leaning over her leg to get a better look. Lexa needs to fight to keep her eyes from peeking down the girl’s loose shirt, which is now hanging a few inches from her chest, leaving her sports bra and cleavage totally visible. She gulps, feeling herself blush.

“Hmm, well it’s definitely sprained,” the woman concludes, as she touches Lexa’s ankle and lightly tests it’s movement.

“Perfect,” Lexa sighs. The apologetic look returns on the girl’s face. “I am really really sorry,” she says.

“It’s alright, it wasn’t your fault, just your dog’s,” Lexa answers, teasingly. The woman smiles and Lexa thinks she’d do anything just to see that smile again. “I’m Lexa, by the way.”

“My name is Clarke. Nice to meet you Lexa, although I wish it had been under different circumstances, instead of my dog trying to tackle you."

Lexa doesn’t hear anything the girl says past her name. She shivers at hearing her it fall from Clarke’s lips, the way her tongue moves over the ‘L’, the ‘-ex’ catches in the back of her throat, and the ‘-a’ is just a breathless sigh. She can’t help but think about how that voice would sound in her ear, whispering her name while Lexa kisses down the blonde’s neck— _fuck, I need to stop. I know it’s been a while since I’ve been with someone but this is ridiculous._ She quickly cuts the inappropriate train of thought, but she can’t help her body’s reaction to it. Her heart is pounding, her lips are parted and her breathing is quickened.

“Lexa? Hellooo?” Clarke snaps her out of her daydream.

“What? Oh sorry, I just remembered that I think I left my stove on at home!” Lexa says, attempting to cover up her momentary lapse in attention.

“Yikes, well let’s get you home then!” Clarke stands up and holds out a hand to help Lexa up. She gladly takes it, and only stops for a moment to cherish how well Clarke’s hand fits in hers, before pulling herself up. She tests her ankle, only to find it won’t support her full weight.

“I can’t run on this,” she says dejectedly.

“Don’t worry, Lincoln and I will walk you home,” Clarke offers.

“Lincoln would be this charming fellow, I assume?” Lexa nods at the husky, still slobbering all over the pavement. “He’s very excited, isn’t he?”

“Yes that’s Lincoln. He isn’t always so crazy, but we just moved here and the new scenery is definitely making him more enthusiastic than usual,” Clarke explains. The blonde places her hand around Lexa’s waist to support her, and Lexa can feel her stomach knotting at the touch. They begin an awkward hobble in the direction of Lexa’s place.

“What made you move here?” Lexa asks, hoping she’s not prying. Clarke’s lips tighten, and Lexa wishes she could take it back. But, to her surprise, the girl answers her.

“Bad break-up,” she replies lightheartedly, as if she’s trying to show that it was only bad for the other person. Lexa sees right through it. “I moved here just looking for something new, you know? After so long with my ex-boyfriend, trying to have the same life without him was pointless. I needed something different, because I’m different now too,” she finishes.

Lexa tries not to get hung up on the word “boyfriend”. _Beautiful, and brave too, to just get up and completely change her life like that._ She doesn’t know what to say, so she simply nods and continues stumbling with Clarke’s support.

They eventually reach Lexa’s house, a duplex that she shares with her neighbour Nyko. They awkwardly manage the stairs leading up to the front door, Lincoln following eagerly behind.

“Thanks stranger, I think I can manage the rest,” Lexa says once they reach the door.

“I hope not,” Clarke responds instantly. Lexa quirks an eyebrow. “I mean I hope not a ‘stranger’,” Clarke smiles, “it’s hard moving to a new city sometimes, it’d be nice to have a familiar face around. Maybe we can get coffee someday, my treat, to make up for this terrible first impression I’m leaving?” Lexa can tell she’s trying to play it off as no big deal, but she can hear the hope in the blonde’s voice.

“I’d say you’re leaving a pretty great first impression actually, considering you helped me limp home. I mean, really, it was your dog, and not you, that gave me a less than favourable impression,” Lexa replies, only half-joking. For show, she scowls at Lincoln, which gets her a laugh from Clarke.

“Sweet, well how ‘bout I give you my number and we’ll set it up sometime,” the blonde suggests. Lexa smiles and takes the girl’s number down in her phone. “Are you sure you can manage from here?” _God, she is adorable._

“Yes, I’ll be alright. Just needs some ice and painkillers. Thank you again, Clarke. I’ll be in touch,” Lexa assures her, and the thought of meeting with this girl again gives her butterflies.

“I look forward to it, see you around! Lincoln, let’s go boy,” the blonde turns, tugging the husky down the steps behind her.

Lexa closes her front door and leans against it, letting out a massive sigh. _Well, on the one hand, my ankle is wrecked_ , she thinks, knowing it’ll a least be a few days, maybe a few weeks, before she can run again. _But on the other hand….. wow._ She thinks about Clarke, about the way she smiled and laughed and said Lexa’s name. _Wow,_ she thinks again. Even though her run was only 10 minutes, Lexa is smiling for the rest of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lexa is a mess and Anya gets her back on her feet, literally.

_Perfect. Just fucking perfect._ Lexa stares into the toilet hopelessly.  


It had been two days since her incident with Clarke. Two days of icing her ankle, watching documentaries, and trying to decide how long she should wait before texting the blonde. Lexa would always bring up a new message on her screen, type something out, only to get flustered and delete it before pressing send. She was rusty when it came to social interactions, she knew that. She’d pretty much closed herself off from any close relationships since her last breakup. And now that she really did want to get to know another person, she was doing a pretty abysmal job of it.  


Matters were only made worse when Lexa, still limping around her house, lost her balance and dropped her phone in the toilet. She fishes it out, knowing already that it’s a lost cause. But it’s not the thought of the missed work emails or lost pictures of the sunrises she’d seen on early morning runs that she’s most upset about. Clarke’s number is gone.  
————-  


Five days since she dropped her phone in the toilet, and one week since she met Clarke, Lexa has been reduced to a miserable heap on the couch. Her ankle shows signs of improvement, the swelling seriously reduced and the bruises healing, but the girl herself is a mess. She received two weeks leave from work, and so far she’s blown through every documentary that piqued her interest (and several that didn’t).  


If she was being honest with herself, she’d admit that the laziness wasn’t due to her bummed ankle, but because she lost Clarke’s number. _I don’t understand how I could get this attached to the idea of a person without even really knowing them,_ she muses, _yet here I am, unable to find joy in my life…. God, I’m melodramatic and pathetic._ Lexa knows it must be serious if she’s succumbing to self-pity. It’s never been something she permitted herself to do before.  


She’s jolted out of her melancholic daydream by a knock on her front door. She’s mostly annoyed at having to get up, but can’t help entertain a small hope that it’s Clarke at her door, wondering why she never called.  


Lexa hobbles over to the door and opens it tentatively, peering around the edge.  


“Lexa!”  


Lexa staggers as a woman pushes through the door.  


“Jesus, kid, where have you been?”  


Finally getting her balance again, Lexa confronts the intruder. She’s surprised to see the familiar face and wild, dark blonde hair belonging to Anya, her lifelong best friend.  


“Anya, hey, sorry I’ve more or less dropped off the map lately.”  


Anya raises an eyebrow. “Dropped off the map?” she says, incredulously. “Lexa, you aren’t even on the same planet. What happened to you? First of all, you haven’t responded to any of my texts or calls for a week, and secondly, you look like spent last night under a bridge. How long has it been since you showered last?”  


Lexa sighs and resigns to let Anya finish her rant. Lexa has always been the fierce, stoic type with two exceptions: when she’s running, and when she’s around Anya. Her childhood friend has known her longer than any other living person, and at one point in her life she basically raised Lexa. She couldn’t shut Anya out even if she tried.  


Lexa explains why she hasn’t been in touch, and how she got injured (although she leaves out the bit about her massive crush on Clarke). The two girls return to the couch Lexa had previously been having a pity party on.  


“Okay Lex, fair enough, I understand the sprained ankle and trashed phone, but what is going on with you? I feel like wouldn’t you usually be setting up a new phone, hobbling into work, and trying to get back on your feet sooner? It seems like you haven’t gotten off this couch in days.”  


_If only you knew how true that was._  


“So kid,” Anya continues, “what’s up?”  


Lexa crumbles and tells Anya about the amazing girl she met with the “monstrous, slobbering, yet cute dog-mammoth”. A slow smile creeps across the other woman’s face as Lexa continues her tale. Finally, the girl finishes with a resigned “and then I lost her number because I dropped my phone in the toilet. Like, how idiotic is that?”  


Anya chuckles, whether at the story or at Lexa’s current state of despair, Lexa isn’t sure. Then, Anya gets up and moves to pull her off the couch.  


“Anya…? Are we going somewhere?”  


“Yeah, you need some fresh air and sunshine, kid. You’re gonna wither away locked in this house. Come on, we can talk about what to do next with your girl-situation while we walk.” Lexa barely has a chance to toss her long curls into a half-assed bun, throw on a jacket and shoes before Anya pulls her outside.  


The sun is shining, and there’s almost not a single cloud in the sky. _Perfect day for a run_ , Lexa thinks wistfully.  


They walk arm in arm down to the path along the river, Lexa still limping a bit. Out of decency, Lexa tries to discuss other topics with Anya, so as not to be focusing only on herself. Anya talks a little about her life of the past week, but quickly returns to the matter of Clarke.  


“So she’s new to town, eh?” The woman pries.  


“Yes, well that’s what she told me.”  


“New to town, but also recently single, likes to run, and has an adorable puppy. Lexa if you don’t make a move, I might have to. She sounds great!” Anya teases.  


“Well, I can’t very well make a move without a phone number, can I? Lexa responds, exasperated.  


“Hmm, yes, I suppose there is that tiny complication,” Anya considers.  


Lexa can feel her emotions rising, getting the best of her. “A ‘tiny complication’?” she practically shouts, “What are the odds that I’ll run into her again? Not to mention she probably thinks I’m an asshole who didn’t ever text or call her after she so kindly walked me home while I was crippled. By the time I get back to running, she may have changed schedules, or found a new route, or a new ‘stranger’ to become friends with.” Lexa knows she’s being childish but she’s on a roll and can’t stop now. “Who knows, maybe even now she’s trading numbers with some hunky guy who ran by her the other day without a shirt on and they’re getting _acquainted_ and-“  


“Lexa! Lexa, is that you?”  


Both women freeze, Lexa’s sentence hangs unfinished and her heart not daring to believe what she heard. Anya turns around, but Lexa is paralyzed.  


“Lexa! It’s Clarke, remember me? The stranger with the dog who ran you over last week.”  


So many thoughts are racing through Lexa’s head, and she can’t prioritize any of them. They’re all a disorganized mess of _Oh god, she’s saying my name_ and _How is this happening right now? Is there a God? There must be a God_ and _Shit, she can’t see me like this!_  


Meanwhile, Anya is calling to Clarke, “Yeah, it’s Lexa! I’m her friend, Anya. You must be Clarke?”  


Lexa’s spins around to glare at Anya. Anya pretends not to notice. Lexa looks to the woman behind them who was calling her name moments ago. It is definitely Clarke, she concludes. As if Lincoln trailing by her side weren’t a huge giveaway, she’s also very blonde and very making Lexa unable to breathe.  


Clarke is wearing black shorts (Lexa fails at averting her eyes from Clarke’s legs) and a sky blue tank top (Lexa also fails at averting her eyes from Clarke’s chest). Her hair is braided and hanging over one shoulder, the ends of it just starting to trail into the low-cut neckline of her shirt. Lexa swallows, trying to shake the images of her trailing her tongue below that neckline. The blonde catches up to them, a wide grin on her face.  


“And here I thought I’d have to kick dow your door to see you again,” she jokes, “did you forget that I owe you a coffee on Lincoln’s behalf?” The dog in question barks loudly, excited as ever.  


_She’s very forward,_ Lexa thinks. She tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach at Clarke’s threat. She tries not to think about what might’ve happened if Clarke had come and kicked down her front door. Instead, she thinks about not messing this up.  


“Clarke, I’m really sorry I never got back to you.You aren’t going to believe this but I dropped my phone in-“ she pauses. _What sounds less ridiculous than a toilet?_  


“-In the parking lot at work,” Anya interjects, “We think someone must’ve picked it up and, well, there’s no hope for it now.” Lexa shoots her a grateful smile.  


“Oh no, I’m sorry to hear that,” Clarke replies, “I guess that explains why I never heard from you. But hey, we must have pretty great luck to bump into each other again like this!” Clarke’s smile widens and her blue eyes are bright. Lexa isn’t sure how she hasn’t passed out yet from lack of oxygen.  


“Yeah, this is-“ _amazing, wonderful, my lucky day, the best thing that’s happened to me in the past week_ “unexpected, for sure.”  


The two girls end up staring at each other. Clarke looks as excited as Lincoln, while Lexa is a mixture of nervousness and heart eyes.  


“Well, places to go and people to see,” Anya says suddenly, “It was nice to meet you Clarke. Lexa, you seem to be in capable hands, do you two mind if I were to head out? I’ve got a meeting downtown in 20 minutes.”  
Lexa’s jaw drops.“Anya!” She fumbles a bit, trying to sound less strangled at the thought of being alone with Clarke, “You-you can’t just leave me here with Clarke. I’m crippled, and I’m sure she has things she needs to do today other than help me limp home again.” She adds the last bit mostly to deter from the truth: that if she’s left alone with Clarke she’ll likely make a huge fool of herself, again.  


“Oh no, it’s totally fine!” Clarke assures, “I’ve actually got the day off today, so I can help you limp anywhere you’d like to go,” she finishes with a wink. Lexa almost dies then and there. _Oh fuck. A wink, really?_ And she knows it wasn’t supposed to be in a suggestive way, Clarke didn’t even say anything remotely inappropriate, but Lexa’s suddenly very flustered, and her mind goes places it shouldn’t.  


Anya hugs Lexa and whispers in her ear, “Relax, Lex. Just be you,” and walks off, waving goodbye to Clarke. _Just be me? I am easily the most intimidating, no-nonsense person around._ Her relationship with her coworkers proves that. _But this girl has reduced me to an emotional mess._ Lexa sighs.  


“Well, Lexa, would you like to grab coffee? My treat.” Clarke is smiling that gorgeous smile and winding her hand around Lincoln’s leash like she might be slightly nervous. Lexa finds it unbearably cute.  


“Sure, I know a place nearby,” Lexa offers, trying to keep her nerves under control.  


“Awesome!”  


Clarke takes Lexa’s arm in hers, supporting her as they begin to walk down the path. Between trying not to stare at Clarke’s lips, trying not to stare at her chest, and trying not to stare at their interlocked arms, Lexa settles on staring at Lincoln, bounding happily alongside them. They continue in silence for a little while. Clarke breaks it first.  


“So, how far to this coffee shop?” Clarke asks.  


“Only about four blocks from here,” Lexa says, “Sorry you’ve got to basically carry me there,” she adds apologetically, nodding at Clarke’s arm supporting her.  


“I don’t mind at all,” Clarke replies cheerily, and Lexa could swear she feels the girl tighten her grip, just slightly.  
In truth, Lexa hasn’t felt drawn to another person like this for a long time. Now that she’s got this second chance, she has no plans to let this girl slip away. She looks over at Clarke, who’s smiling at Lexa like she’s the sun after a thunderstorm. _Even a friendship with her would make me happy_ , she thinks. Lexa remembers her conversation with Clarke last week, how she’d mentioned an ex-boyfriend. _But just a friendship,_ she tells herself, and smiles back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which lexa and clarke sustain a real conversation that isn't painfully awkward... but still kind of is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> absolutely loved writing this chapter! It's a bit longer too.

After several minutes, the girls reach the coffee shop. The walk had been pleasant. They made small talk, discussing the events of the past week in their respective lives. Lexa learned that Clarke was a veterinarian, and Clarke discovered that Lexa had a passion for politics. Conversation came easy between the two of them, it was almost effortless, which was the opposite of how Lexa felt at the moment. She was doing a passable job of feigning ease, but her insides were all knotted and her heart raced anytime she and Clarke made eye contact. _I’m worse than a hormonal teenager_ , she chides herself. 

Lincoln is unfortunately not allowed inside the shop with them, so Clarke ties him up outside. The dog doesn’t appear to be offended, still lolling about happily. It makes Lexa smile, like she had when she’d first seem him running excitedly a week ago. She decides not to harbour a grudge on the husky because, after all, he is simply adorable. _So is your owner_ , she thinks, looking from the smiling puppy to the grinning woman standing next to her. 

Once inside, Clarke turns to Lexa as they approach the counter. “So, the million dollar question…” she pauses for effect, “what do you drink?” 

Lexa offers her an amused smile. “Just a cappuccino today would be great, please and thank you.” 

Clarke feigns shock. “And here I had you pegged for a ‘black coffee’ kind of girl,” she teases. 

“Only on Mondays,” Lexa replies, adding a wink. She hopes it has the same effect on Clarke that Clarke’s had on her. Judging by the way Clarke licks her lips, she thinks it might’ve. 

The blonde pays, and once they retrieve their drinks, they sit at a nearby table. Neither one talks, both content to sip their beverages in peace for a moment. Lexa is glad that it is not an awkward silence, and she thinks that maybe that bodes well for their relationship. _Relationship as in friendship_ , she reminds herself pointedly. 

“So,” Clarke speaks up, “you know what I do for a living. What about you? You mentioned an interest in politics….” 

Lexa smiles politely at the conversation starter, but in reality she has no desire to talk about her work life in front of Clarke. At work, she is a ruthless and unwavering machine. Her colleagues have referred to her as “The Commander” on more than one occasion. With Clarke, however, that side of her slips away. 

“I’m a lawyer, actually,” she replies. “I work at a firm downtown. We deal in a multitude of fields, but I, myself, practice international law.” 

Clarke’s eyes widen a bit. “A lawyer? For real? Could you help me with some legal stuff maybe? I mean, it’s totally the other guy’s fault, not mine. Seriously. Okay, so all that happened was Lincoln and I were walking by this hot dog stand and then-“ 

Lexa stops her before she goes any further. “Unfortunately, I can’t help with those kind of problems.” She chuckles at Clarke’s mock disappointment. “Plus, from the sounds of where this story was heading, you were going to put at risk the shining impression I have of your dog.” 

The blonde grins mischievously. “He is a good dog, regardless of what you or others think. Maybe I’m the bad one.” 

Lexa gulps. _Was that a flirt?_ Lexa tries to move past it, not imagining exactly what “bad” things Clarke could get up to. Instead, she takes a crack at Clarke in return. 

“Maybe both of you are just beyond rescuing.” 

Clarke grins widely. “We already were rescued,” the blonde replies, “when we moved here.” Lexa quirks her head to the side, not understanding. 

“I…” Clarke pauses, suddenly serious and unsure if she should continue. Lexa can feel the gravity of the moment. So she reaches out and puts her hand on Clarke’s for comfort. Inside, her blood is boiling and she thinks she might pass out, but she has a calm demeanour on the outside, and Clarke continues. “I was in a pretty rough spot before I moved, with the breakup and all. Moving here has made me so much happier. It’s made me realize that I don’t need him. The guy I was seeing, I mean. I have a place by the river, a beautiful neighbourhood and a great work environment here. Not to mention I have Lincoln, and now I have you too.” She blushes, thinking maybe she said too much. 

Lexa’s heart swells at the girl’s words. To hear that Clarke is happy makes Lexa happy, but to hear that she has a hand in the blonde’s happiness has Lexa on cloud 9. 

“Glad to be of service,” Lexa says, blushing furiously. She and Clarke have that in common, it seems. 

Clarke smiles in return. “So, Anya. How long have you and her been friends?” She asks, just for something to talk about. 

“Oh, since I was about three years old,” Lexa says nonchalantly. 

“Really?” Clarke is shocked. “I don’t even know any of my friends from middle school anymore. How did you two manage to stay so close all your lives?” 

Lexa grins, remembering the day they met. “We weren’t always so close, she and I. Our parents were friends, so we were always around each other growing up. But Anya has a few years on me, and when we met for the first time she was seven. She pushed me into a puddle of mud.” 

Clarke throws back her head and laughs (Lexa thinks its the most amazing sound she’s ever heard). “You’re kidding right?” The blonde chokes out between bouts of laughter. “Like, that can’t be real. I’m sorry, I’m just imagining you, Miss Dog-Hating-International-Lawyer, falling face first in a puddle of mud.” Clarke pretends to wipe a tear from her eye. 

_Well, any hope I had of being my stoic and emotionless self in front of this girl is gone now_. That prospect might’ve bothered her before (she always made sure she was the most intimidating person in the room), but now, she was surprised to find that she didn’t mind in the slightest if Clarke never found her threatening. Being “The Commander” worked for her, given her job, but it was exhausting. Day in and day out of cold-blooded decision-making driven by logic rather than emotion. She didn’t need to be that way with Clarke. It was liberating. 

“Wait a minute!” Lexa jumps in, interrupting Clarke’s laughter, “I am not a dog-hater. I love dogs, I want a dog actually. It’s just that your dog and I, in particular, got off to a rough start. But I don’t hate Lincoln. In fact, I think he’s wonderful. I mean, he’s the reason I met you right?” Lexa’s brain catches up to her mouth a moment later, realizing what she said. _Was that too forward? God, why can’t I remember how to flirt with girls._

“Well,” Clarke replies, smiling, “I’ll be sure to give him a treat for that then.” 

The two women continued to talk for a while, blowing through various topics. Standard questions arose like, “what’s your favourite colour?” (Clarke’s was green. “Like your eyes”, she’d said. They’d both blushed furiously at that) and “if you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be?” (Lexa said chicken caesar salad, Clarke said lasagna). 

Some more personal subjects came up as well. Clarke talked a bit about her break-up with the boy named Finn who Lexa hated instantly. There had been lying on Finn’s part about some other woman, and some sort of mental breakdown where he thought she was missing for days when she was really staying with her Mom (she had left him a note and everything). It was all a big mess really, but Lexa concluded that Clarke was much, much better off without him. 

Lexa talked briefly about her childhood with Anya, how after the mud incident they’d fought a lot, until Lexa was nine and Anya was thirteen and Anya had defended Lexa from the bullies at school. From then on, Anya had been like a big sister to Lexa, and taught her how to be strong and defend herself. 

And then it happened. 

“So…,” Clarke drawled, not making eye contact. “Are you seeing anyone?” She looked at Lexa, and bit her lip. It did terrible things to Lexa. _No one should be able to bite their lip and look that sexy,_ she thinks, trying to ignore the thought of her biting that lip instead. 

“Because, I mean, I did accidentally injure you and I just want to know if there’s gonna be some muscular yet broody man knocking down my door, demanding what I did to his girlfriend and lecturing me on the proper running path etiquette in this part of town and-“ She’s rambling, which Lexa finds adorable, but she cuts her off nonetheless. 

“You won’t have to worry about that,” she assures the blonde. “I’m not seeing anyone, and if I was, it most certainly would not be a… what did you say? ‘Muscular yet broody man’?” She pictures herself with a man of that description and laughs. “I’m gay,” she finishes casually. _Very gay. For you_ , she adds, in the safety of her head. 

Clarke’s eyes widen a little bit, and Lexa hopes she hasn’t scared the girl off. _No,_ she chastises herself. _If she’s the type to get scared off because I’m gay, then she’s not worth being just friends with._ She wonders if it’s too late for her to turn her back on Clarke, or if she’s already in too deep. _Straight girls. I know better than to crush on straight girls._

Her worries are alleviated, however, when Clarke breaks into a smile. “Cool,” she replies. Okay, so maybe Lexa’s worries aren’t entirely alleviated. 

“Cool?” She raises an eyebrow. “Who responds to ‘I’m gay’ with ‘cool’?” 

“Me!” Clarke replies defensively, only to shrug and add, “apparently.” She clears her throat. “Sorry, I guess I was just taken aback because, well, what are the odds that the girl I happen to literally run into actually doesn’t hate me and is super friendly and also is not-straight. Small world, right? We gotta stick together, us queer ladies.” 

Lexa’s brain goes haywire upon hearing “not-straight” and “queer”. _She didn’t say gay though…And she was in that relationship with Finn…_

Clarke snaps her out of her reverie. Literally, she’s snapping her fingers in front of Lexa’s face. 

“Lexa? Lexaaaaaaaaa,” Clarke drags her name out, like Anya used to when they wrestled and Lexa got strong enough to pin her. Only now, Lexa is thinking of Clarke dragging her name out under much different circumstances. _And a different kind of ‘pinned’_. She smirks at the thought. 

“So you are awake in there!” Clarke cheers, seeing Lexa’s grin. 

“Sorry, sorry! I agree with you though. Small world for us to meet like this, two gorgeous ‘not-straight’ women, brought together by a morning run and an overly-enthusiastic dog. One might say its fate,” she says suggestively, and does her best seductive wink. 

Clarke’s reaction is exactly what she’d hoped for. The blonde bites her lip, and her eyes dart down to Lexa’s lips before returning to her eyes. _Green eyes, your favourite colour._ Lexa smiles, and Clarke smiles back, but Lexa doesn’t miss the shaky breathe the other girl lets out. 

Their conversation goes back to normal, both girls seeming to move past the previous moment instantly, but Lexa’s heart is hammering in her chest, and she doesn’t fail to notice that Clarke looks at her lips more frequently that she’d been doing before. 

Eventually, the girls get up to leave. Outside, Lincoln is patiently waiting for them, and once they untie him they begin to walk back to Lexa’s house, Clarke again supporting some of her weight. _This damn ankle. Hurry up and get better, you stupid appendage._

“Are you planning to get a new phone?” Clarke asks suddenly. 

Lexa had entirely forgotten about it. “Yes, I suppose I should.” 

“Alright, well, when you do, I expect my number to be the first you put in it,” and she hands Lexa a napkin from the coffee shop with her phone number on it. Had anyone else done it, Lexa would think it was needy. But with Clarke, she thinks it’s assertive and commanding. _And kind of hot._

Once they reach Lexa’s front porch, Clarke clears her throat. 

“So, I was wondering if, when you’re feeling better, maybe you’d like to join me on my runs?” She’s adorably nervous, Lexa can tell. “Unless you are more of a solo-runner. I know some people are like that, I don’t mind.” 

“I am more of a solo-runner, can’t I just run behind you?” 

Clarke grins mischievously. “What, so you can stare at my ass?” 

Lexa knows she set herself up for it. In reality, she was hoping for Clarke to jump on it. “You caught me,” she offers, and winks, before adding, “But in all seriousness, I’d love to run with you. I assume it’s a package deal though?” She nods at Lincoln. 

“Lincoln and I are always a package deal,” Clarke responds instantly. “Except maybe in certain cases, like in the shower, or during sex-“ She shuts her mouth, looking mortified. Between being amused and (super) aroused, Lexa thinks _maybe I’m not the only one lacking a filter_. 

“Have a good day, Clarke,” Lexa says, laughing. “Thank you for coffee.” Clarke waves goodbye at her, not trusting any words that might come out of her mouth. Lexa retreats into her house, and finds herself in the same position she’d been in a week ago. She leans back against the door, sighs, and finds she can’t stop thinking about Clarke for the rest of the day. Only this time, her thoughts are a lot less G-rated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke invites Lexa over for dinner. Cue sexual tension.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the chapters are getting longer the further along we go, oops. Thanks everyone for reading and all the support you've been giving me. Hope you enjoy this chapter! Also, if you're feeling so inclined, feel free to check me out on the tumblr machine: drank-in-lurve. We can fangirl about clexa, since its taken over my life.

In the following weeks, Lexa and Clarke saw each other nearly every other day. It took another week after the coffee shop before Lexa could join Clarke for runs, but eventually she was back out there. 

She had been so wrapped up in the feel of her stride, the sun on her face, and the movement of her muscles, she’d almost forgotten Clarke was even there. She’d had to ask the girl to repeat herself time and time again, but Clarke never seemed to mind. She looked happy just watching Lexa in her element. 

A few more weeks went by, littered with awkward attempts at flirting and sexual tension on both sides. Their conversations would be friendly, touched with laughter and sarcasm, but then someone would drop an innuendo, some not-so-subtle subtext, and both women would blush furiously. One time it went so far as Lexa choking on her food while Clarke was in the middle of a story because she’d said “people trust me to neuter their dogs, I must be good with my hands. At least, that what I’ve been told” and had finished with a wink. 

Although it had been very much on her mind for weeks, Lexa didn’t want to bluntly ask Clarke whether she was interested in women or not. _That’d be a dead giveaway that I’m interested in her_. But she figures it out one afternoon as they sip beers on Lexa’s front porch. 

Clarke was in the middle of a story about her childhood, specifically her rebellious teenage years. “So my mom hears this loud noise in the middle of the night, and she thinks ‘Clarke must be sneaking out’, so she comes upstairs to check on me, right?” Clarke laughs, reminiscing. “Anyways, you should’ve seen the look on her face when she opened my door. Here, she expected me to be sneaking out, but it was actually Katie from my chemistry class sneaking out!” 

“She was sneaking out because…?” 

“We were seeing each other at the time, but no one knew so we had to keep it on the down-low. Y’know, secret meetings in the school bathroom to make out, staring lustfully at each other from across classrooms, sneaking into each other’s bedrooms at night to-“ 

“I got the picture, thank you,” Lexa cuts in abruptly. Not that she minds Clarke’s sex life, but the thought of Clarke being with girls (she’d just admitted it, after all) was making Lexa’s body react in a very I-wish-we-were-fucking-not-drinking-beers kind of way... A fire in her gut, pressure building between her legs, and she could only assume her pupils were severely dilated. 

The thought pops into her mind: _I wonder who was the ‘top’_ , and before she can stop it, Lexa’s thoughts wander to a place where she isn’t “The Commander” anymore, Clarke is, and the blonde is having her way with her. Pushing her against walls and demanding she take off every piece of clothing. Lexa is not one to be ordered around, but she thinks she could make an exception for Clarke. She reigns her thoughts back in before she does something rash, like act on them. 

“Soooooo… would you like to come over for dinner tonight?” 

“Just can’t get enough of me, can you?” 

“You mean your insufferable ego, oh I think I’ve gotten quite enough of that,” Clarke teases. “What, Lincoln loves having you around.” The dog is fast asleep on the porch, neither confirming or denying Clarke’s claim. 

“Sure, I’d love to. What time?” 

“6:30?” Clarke offers. Lexa glances at her watch. 2 hours. 

“Yes, that’d work for me.” 

“Perfect,” Clarke beams. “I’ll excuse myself then to go get stuff ready. I’ll text you my address. Thanks for beers!” And she’s already on her way down the front steps, a sleepy Lincoln in tow. 

_Guess I may as well get ready too_. By the time Lexa showers, it’s already 5:30. She’d easily spent 45 minutes in the shower, alternating between fits of panic and excitement at the thought of dinner, alone, with Clarke. _Does this count as a date? It was never specified_. She also takes longer than necessary to decide what to wear. She settles for a loose tank top with a creamy tinge to it and a low neckline. She throws on a black bra, which is slightly visible through the material of her shirt, but she thinks its just enough to be noticeable without appearing intentional. She settles for black skinny jeans and her black leather jacket, because even though she knows the outfit might seem cliché, it also makes her look hot as hell. 

_Clarke never really said if this was a ‘fancy’ thing or not… I hope she’s not in sweats and I show up like this, insanely overdressed_. Lexa checks her watch again: 6 o’ clock. She google maps Clarke’s address and is surprised to find it’s only five blocks away. _Really, this whole time? And she never said anything_. Suddenly, Lexa is second-guessing herself. Should she really be wearing this outfit that is obviously designed to accent her body in all the right places? She looks in the mirror again. _Fuck yes, I should_ , and she goes to do her makeup. Self-doubt was never her thing. She settles for black eyeliner, and when it comes to her hair she debates braiding it but ultimately decides to leave the wild curls in their natural habitat. 

Despite only being five blocks away, Lexa drives to Clarke’s house. She justifies this because she’s wearing ankle boots with a rather high heel. As she pulls up, she notices that it is a similar setup to her own neighbourhood; two-story duplexes, all lined with front porches. She parks and makes her way up the front steps. At the doorbell, she hesitates. _Calm down, Woods. You have entered courtrooms far more daunting than this_. She never has the opportunity to ring the bell, however, as Lincoln starts barking from within the house, alerting Clarke to Lexa’s presence. Lexa rings it anyways. 

“Lexa, hey! Come on in,” Clarke opens the door and ushers her inside. “Lawyer Lexa, right on time.” 

Lexa smiles and takes off her boots, then looks up at her host. She’s glad she just took off her heels; if she’d been wearing them, she might’ve lost her balance and toppled over in awe. 

Clarke is wearing a black top with an open back and a v-cut neckline that ends just below her breasts. Lexa had grown so used to seeing Clarke in her sports bra that she half-expected the blonde to wear one to dinner. Instead, Lexa has to shut her jaw and force her eyes away from Clarke’s chest. She takes in the rest of the woman’s outfit; blue skinny jeans and her hair in loose curls. The clothes themselves are nothing extravagant, but the way they shape Clarke’s body has Lexa’s heart pounding and her mind thinking of every possible way to take them off. 

“Okay, first things first, you look stunning,” Clarke says, eyes raking Lexa from head to toe. Lexa recalls that Clarke is a very forward person. 

“I could say the same for you,” she answers, trying to keep her voice as even as possible. Difficult, when she’s imagining how stunning Clarke would look without any of her clothes on. 

“Oh please, flatterer. Let’s head to the kitchen!” 

Clarke leads Lexa through the house, and Lexa does not pass up the opportunity to admire just how well Clarke’s jeans fit her body. So much so that Lexa is a second too late to avert her eyes when Clarke turns around. She can’t help but blush at being caught, but she tries to slap on a cocky grin. 

“Pervert.” 

Lexa just winks before asking Clarke if she needs help with anything. 

“Yes please, actually. Could you taste this for me?” 

Lexa decides, then and there, that the word ‘taste’ is capable of holding as much innuendo as the word ‘moan’. _They kind of go hand in hand, actually_. Trying to keep her thoughts PG, she joins Clarke where she’s standing near the stove, a pot of something by her side. 

“What is it?” 

“I can’t tell you, that will spoil the surprise. Just try it.” 

Lexa takes a spoon resting on the counter and dips it in the concoction (which she suspects is pasta sauce). Once she’s got some, she brings it to her lips and looks Clarke straight in the eyes. She smirks as the blonde’s eyes dart to her lips. She puts the spoon in her mouth, ever so slowly, watching Clarke’s eyes widen as her lips curls around it. Lexa raises an eyebrow and the blush she sees creeping up the other girl’s neck is the sweetest reward. She pulls the spoon out, purses her lips, and licks them slowly. Clarke's own lips are parted, her pupils black, and Lexa struggles to maintain her cool demeanour instead of pushing the other woman against the counter and crashing their lips together. 

Unbeknownst to Lexa, a drop of the substance (which, despite all the sexual tension, Lexa had indeed identified as pasta sauce) manages to escape her and land on the kitchen floor. It’s at that moment that Lincoln bounds happily into the kitchen, sniffing for whatever delicious thing he can lick off the floor this time. 

The two women don’t notice until its too late, and the dog doesn’t pay them any attention. Lincoln bumps into the back of Lexa’s legs, and she stumbles forward. Luckily, gifted as she is with fast reflexes, she catches herself on the counter to save herself from going face first into Clarke’s chest. It is, however, now only a matter of inches that separates Lexa from Clarke. 

“Linc-oh,” Clarke gasps. Her gaze flickers from Lexa’s eyes to her lips, unsure which to settle on. “Hi,” she adds, out of breathe. 

“Hi,” Lexa whispers. 

It would be so easy to close that gap, Lexa knows it. In every aspect of her life, she’s a risk-taker. But like her intimidating exterior and heartless interior fall away with Clarke, so does her affinity for taking chances. She begins to pull back, but Clarke grabs her wrist. 

“Lexa, I-“ 

The doorbell rings, making both girls jump. Lexa takes two steps back. She can feel herself blushing and she keeps her eyes fixed firmly on the floor. Clarke looks surprised at the sudden loss of contact, if not a little disappointed. She then huffs and excuses herself to get the door. 

Once Clarke leaves the kitchen, Lexa looks around for a bathroom. She doesn’t want to runaway, per se. She just needs someplace to cool down, maybe splash some cold water on her neck. She can’t find one on the first floor that doesn’t involve her passing through the entryway so she makes her way up to the second floor. As she climbs the stairs, she faintly hears Clarke greeting the people at the door. 

“Monty, Jasper, its about damn time!” _She sounds annoyed._

“Sorry we’re late!” The men apologize in unison. _I didn’t realize this was a dinner party_ , Lexa sulks, disappointed that she won’t have Clarke all to herself. 

Lexa gives up on finding a bathroom as soon as she reaches the upper landing. Straight ahead lies Clarke’s room, the door slightly ajar. And despite every fibre of her being telling her not to ( _I’m a lawyer, this is so beneath me_ ) she slowly pushes the door open and walks in. 

The first thing Lexa notices is that it is messy. Lexa cannot be a messy person simply because of her lifestyle, but looking at the scattered clothes and miscellaneous items on the floor, she concludes that it suits Clarke perfectly. 

The second thing she notices is that the walls are dotted with art. Not framed pieces though, but sketches and drawings that appear to have been carefully torn out of a notebook. _These are incredible_ , Lexa thinks, in awe. She approaches a wall to get a closer look, and spots a coloured drawing (one of the few) of the pathway along the river that she runs. The artist managed to get the hue of the water just right, not quite blue but not quite green. There is another sketch nearby of Lincoln, his features perfectly captured on the paper. The realization dawns on her : _These must be Clarke’s_. 

As she’s about to leave the room, one last sketch catches her eye. As she draws closer, her eyes widen in shock. The image is of her, with her hair down and wild. Her smile is small, and her cheekbones add a touch of ferocity to her face, but it’s her eyes that leave Lexa speechless. They are the only part of the drawing with any colour, and Clarke made them shine, green and vibrant. 

“This is beautiful,” Lexa breathes. 

“So is the girl that inspired it.” 

Lexa whips around, and is mortified when she sees Clarke, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit gets real after Clarke walks in on Lexa snooping around her room. Emotions and fluff and lasagna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter is here! Should be studying but wrote this instead. Thank you to everyone who's been following and any newcomers along the way. Hope you enjoy!

_Oh shit. Ohshitohshitohshit._ Lexa’s face is bright red, and her throat feels like its caught in a noose. She can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t apologize… which she knows she should be doing immediately. She can’t tell if Clarke is bemused or pissed off: the blonde’s arms are still crossed but Lexa wants to believe the slight curve of her lips is a smirk. 

“Clarke-“ 

“It’s fine,” the girl replies before Lexa can say anymore. 

_No, it’s not._ “Clarke I-“ 

Clarke moves into the room. “Lexa, I said ‘it’s fine’.” 

Nothing about the situation feels fine. It feels tense: Lexa’s jaw is clenched, afraid she’ll say something stupid. It feels uncomfortable: Lexa’s wants to run, but it’s like she’s been nailed the floor. But most of all, the situation is charged. There is so much energy in the room, and whether it’s Lexa’s pent-up sexual frustration or Clarke’s suppressed anger ( _she must be mad_ ), it feels like the laws of physics will crumble and the universe will implode if one of them doesn’t do _something_. 

So Clarke does something. 

Lexa opens her mouth to apologize again because _maybe she didn’t hear me_ and _I need to not fuck this up_ but the words never leave her mouth. Clarke crosses the room and in one swift movement, grabs Lexa by the neck, pulls her down, and kisses her hard. Once their lips meet, Clarke using the rest of her momentum to push Lexa back against the wall with a thud. 

Lexa squeaks, taken completely by surprise. 

Clarke pulls back. “Did you just squeak? Because that is totally adorable and all, but you’re supposed to be a terrifying lawyer and-“ 

“Stop talking,” Lexa orders, before bringing their lips back together. And its everything she’s wanted for the past month. She runs a hand through Clarke’s hair, her fingers finding the base of the girl’s neck and entwining themselves there. She lifts her other hand and brushes her thumb along Clarke’s collarbone, eliciting a breathless sigh from the girl. Lexa takes the opportunity to nip at Clarke’s bottom lip, and the sigh turns into a moan. Clarke’s hand that had first grabbed Lexa’s neck trails its way down her chest. She drags her fingers slowly down one of Lexa’s breasts, and Lexa revels in the way such a simple touch can make her back arch with wanting. She runs her tongue along Clarke’s lip, soothing the bite from earlier, and Clarke shivers. 

“Lexa…,” she breathes, and it brings Lexa back to the day she met Clarke, when the blonde had first said her name. The way she’d tested it out on her tongue, making her name sound like a blessing. _And look at us now_. She pulls back at gazes at Clarke. 

“Hi.” She whispers, out of breathe. _Is this real life?_

Clarke smiles and rests her head on Lexa’s chest. Lexa’s body is still riled up, heart blood rushing and her heart pounding. Clarke doesn’t hesitate to point it out. 

“Your heart is beating very fast,” she comments matter-of-factly. 

“Yes, you seem to have that effect on me.” 

“Oh, this has happened before?” Clarke smirks. 

_Only every day since the day we met_. “On occasion,” Lexa replies nonchalantly. 

It’s silent for a few seconds that feel like hours before Clarke clears her throat. “So that happened… Do we need to-” A timer rings from the kitchen. 

“It would appear getting interrupted mid sentence is a habit of yours,” Lexa teases. 

Clarke rolls her eyes and pulls her out of the room and downstairs. “We’ll talk later. Come on, food is ready.” 

As they enter the kitchen, Clarke busies herself with getting the food out of the oven while Lexa offers to set the table. _It’s like nothing has changed_ she thinks, but then changes her mind when her hand brushes Clarke’s waist as they cross paths. _No, if it were the same, that would’ve been awkward._ Lexa is glad to find that the feeling now seems so natural when it once made her panic, yet it still gives her chills. Clarke brings the food to the table and Lexa starts laughing. 

“You did not!” 

There is a large dish of lasagna and a bowl of caesar salad decorating the table. 

“What, it’s my favourite plus your favourite, minus the chicken because I thought that might be too much. But if you’re picky and _need_ it with chicken I’m sure I whip something up or-“ 

Again, she’s cut off mid-sentence, this time by Lexa’s mouth on hers. This kiss is nothing like the other. Where that was all heat and lust and _for the love of God, finally_ , this one is gentle and quick. 

“You’re rambling,” Lexa says once she pulls back. “And this meal is perfect the way it is.” 

They sit down and start eating, but after a minute or two Lexa remembers something she forgot about in all the excitement of having the girl she’s been pining after for weeks kiss her. 

“The men who were at the door weren’t coming over for dinner as well?” 

“Monty and Jasper? Oh no, they were just stopping by to pick up Lincoln for the evening. They were supposed to be here well before you got here but I guess they were late.” 

“Picking up Lincoln for what, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Oh, I just wanted the boys to take him for a walk or something, to get him out of the house. He has a funny way of creating the most awkward situations between you and I, it seems. I thought, given that I really wanted tonight to be special, it might be best if it were just the two of us,” Clarke replies shyly. 

_She wanted me to herself as much as I wanted her_ Lexa thinks, and the thought makes her smile. “Well, I’ve been told you two are a package deal, so in the future I will just be sure to make all the situations awkward before he gets the chance to.” _What is coming out of my mouth? That was possibly to dorkiest thing I have ever heard, and I’m the one who said it_. 

Clarke smiles, but her tone is concerned when she replies. “I hope tonight wasn’t awkward for you… I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you pouting on the sidewalk, the day you tripped over my dog.” 

Lexa’s heart melts a bit. But her pride forces her to speak up. “I didn’t trip over Lincoln! I dodged him and landed funny.” 

Clarke’s attention is back on her lasagna, and she hums an unconvinced “mhhhmm” in Lexa’s direction. 

The two women finish up their dinner and set about cleaning the kitchen. They talk all the while, about nothing consequential, just happy in each others’ company. _The real talk will come later_ , Lexa realizes, when they have to confront what their kiss means. 

That moment comes not long after the dishes have been washed and the leftovers put away (Clarke insisted Lexa take some home with her). They are sitting at the table again with mugs of tea, neither one sure where to begin. They both knew this moment was coming. 

Clarke makes the first move. “So, about earlier… I like you Lexa, a lot. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t invite you over for dinner without seriously considering the possibility of sleeping with you too.” Some errant thought of _desserts_ and _taste_ flickers through Lexa minds but she represses it instead of making an inappropriate comment. “But I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I just got out of a bad relationship, and moving took a lot out of me, not to mention getting integrated to this new workplace has been a lot to handle…” 

Lexa reaches across the table and tucks a strand of hair behind Clarke’s ear. She leans across and looks into Clarke’s eyes, a silent request. The girl doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t pull away, so Lexa closes the distance between them. She presses her lips to Clarke’s softly, and the blonde responds by sighing into Lexa’s mouth. It’s sweet, and soft, and worth every awkward situation of the past few weeks. 

When she pulls back, Lexa says, “I can wait.” 

Clarke still looks slightly dazed from the kiss. “Wait?” 

“Yes. For you. Until you’re ready. Because I think we should give this a try. I want to make you happy; happy you moved here, happy you met me, happier than you ever were with Finn” Lexa prepares to go all in. _No stopping now_.“I want to make you as happy as you make me. And I think we could do it. Even though we both work a lot, and my coworkers could tell you that I am heartless and calculating and ruthless, you make me a giddy, emotional, hormonal mess. It’s wonderful. You make me feel more human than I’ve felt in a long time. I’m not going to make big confession of love, that’s ridiculous seeing as we’ve only known each other a few weeks… But I think, if we gave this thing a shot, we could get there.” 

Clarke sits silently, her mouth slightly open in what Lexa hopes is a good kind of shock as opposed to a bad kind. _That comment about a ‘confession of love’ might’ve been too much…_ , she thinks, but finds that she doesn’t regret any of her words. When Clarke finally answers, it’s not what she was expecting. 

“I see now why you are a lawyer.” 

Lexa’s raises an eyebrow in confusion. 

“You are very persuasive, Miss Woods,” Clarke responds, causing Lexa to smirk. The ‘Miss Woods’ comment has her turned on beyond belief, and she crosses her legs to alleviate some of the pressure building there. 

“You know,” Lexa drawls, “if we weren’t in the middle of an important conversation right now, I’d have to take you back upstairs to your bedroom. Only this time we’d make better use of your bed, instead of stopping at the wall. Oh, and no interruptions.” 

Clarke’s eyes shine and her lips curve into a flirtatious smile. “I’ll have to take you up on that offer some other time,” she promises. “Lexa, I’m really glad you’re willing to wait. I can’t give you a timeline, but when I’m ready you’ll know, because this-“ She points between the two of them “-is going to be a lot of fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all the support, it's made my first Ao3-fic experience a really good one :) another clexa fic already in the works, stay tuned!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


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